


when your time-travelling detective goes out to buy cigarettes and never comes back

by Zephyroh



Category: Hololive, Hololive En, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters
Genre: F/F, no beta: we die like yagoo's dream, this is in essence a character study for amelia and her relationship with the other girls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyroh/pseuds/Zephyroh
Summary: If you’d ask her, Amelia Watson would swear loud and proud that she’d never ask for help in her life ‘I did it all on my own’ was a sentence that had entered her vocabulary at the tender age of 5 years old, after stealing a design for a lego tower during recess – although one could argue that she had improved on the original schematics. And with that sentence came along certain proclivity for lying – or, if you’d ask her: telling her own truth. After all, if people were fools enough to believe her, that was a ‘them’ problem.If you’d ask her, Amelia Watson would probably never tell you the reason why she doesn’t like asking for help. She’d avoid the question, or vaguely mutter about the mere thought of it being an insult to her intellect.Therefore, if one were to try and compile an historical record of Amelia Watson’s travels throughout history, and particularly, her time with a particular set of mythological beings, they would be faced with a  couple of problems. And of course, by ‘they’, I mean ‘myself’.- Excerpt from the thesis of Amiki Holmes, PhD "When your time travelling detective goes out to buy cigerettes and never comes back: the life and work of Amelia Watson"
Relationships: Gawr Gura/Watson Amelia (hololive), Mori Calliope/Watson Amelia, Ninomae Ina'nis/Watson Amelia (hololive), Takanashi Kiara/Watson Amelia
Comments: 11
Kudos: 110





	1. I thought those were Myths! Well, you were myth-taken

**Author's Note:**

> so, this fic started as something completely different to what it is now, because i had realisation and an ensuing existential crisis about my own writing while starting it, and i decided to have fun with it, and here it is. 
> 
> it's basically a mock thesis on amelia, focused on her first meeting with kiara, calli, ina and gura. therefore, being a completely fictional piece of academia, i did not actually write an entire thesis, bur rather excerpt and snippet of it. so don't worry if you think there are missings parts, it's because they are x)

**Asbract**

A lot of people ask ‘’Who is Amelia Watson?’’, but rarely do you see them ask, ‘’Why is Amelia Watson?’’. 

Dr. Amelia Watson has now become an pioneer figure in the chronoarchelogy and xenomythology field, for obvious reasons, as the first declared time traveller and the person who – if not uncovered _per se_ – revealed the existence of what I will call ‘mythological beings’ during the rest of this thesis to the human world. Of course, the mere fact of exposing such creatures’ existence intrinsically nullifies the qualification of ‘mythological’, however for the purposes of this work, I will hold on to the terminology that was accurate at the time. 

Dr. Watson’s work, and Dr. Watson herself, are nothing short extraordinary by all measures. I do not believe saying this constitutes a biais for, as much as she has been a controversial figure in the academic field, this qualificatif can be found in many think pieces about her, whether used negatively or positively. Her groundbreaking work - not only as the first xenomythologist, but also as a remarkable detective throughout time can only be regarded as incredible, regardless of one’s feelings about said work. It is not a coincidence that she remains to this day one of the most quoted people in the academic field. 

Now, to return to my initial question – ‘’Why is Amelia Watson’’ – I will try with this thesis to analyze the cultural impact Dr. Watson had on our current society, how her work has almost single handedly changed the vision of our world both scientifically and sociologically, and the implications caused by her sporadic presence and interventions throughout history, not only through the historical lense of witnesses testimonies and official records, but also using a more personal approach that, I feel, has been missing in the discussion of her person. 

This work will be articulated in several axes, starting from an exhaustive recollection of her early life, prior to time travelling to the first event that constituted the beginning of her journey through the timeline (Part I : clockwork mechanic). I will then explore the discovery and ensuing exposition of the several mythological beings she has encountered, focusing on the main four she has called ‘’close friends and family’’1 in the rare passages of her journal that was recovered in 2156 (Part II: I thought they were Myths - You were myth-taken). Finally, I will go over the few facts on records regarding her disappearance and presumed death (Part III : when does a time-traveler’s time end ?). I will then discuss and analyze the content of my findings and investigations on Dr. Watson’s life and work, first from an historical point of view, followed by a sociological one. Finally (Part IV: The Tie that Binds) I will discuss my own opinion on the historical figure that has now earned the title of ‘legend’ that is Dr. Amelia Watson. 

[…]

* * * *

1Exerpt of ‘The Journal of Amelia Watson’, currently available at the London Musuem of History

* * *

**Part II: I thought those were Myths! Well, you were myth-taken!**

[...]

If you’d ask her, Amelia Watson would swear loud and proud that she’d never ask for help in her life _2 ‘I did it all on my own’_ was a sentence that had entered her vocabulary at the tender age of 5 years old, after stealing a design for a lego tower during recess – although one could argue that she had improved on the original schematics.3 And with that sentence came along certain proclivity for lying – or, if you’d ask her: telling her own truth. After all, if people were fools enough to believe her, that was a ‘them’ problem. 

If you’d ask her, Amelia Watson would probably never tell you the reason why she doesn’t like asking for help. She’d avoid the question, or vaguely mutter about the mere thought of it being an insult to her intellect. 

Therefore, if one were to try and compile an historical record of Amelia Watson’s travels throughout history, and particularly, her time with a particular set of mythological beings, they would be faced with a couple of problems. And of course, by ‘they’, I mean ‘myself’. 

The major problem would be of course that, i) anything that came out of Watson’s mouth would be ro be taken with grains of salt at best or ii) at worst, complete false recollection of the events, whether on purpose or not. Watson was within no doubts a facetious person with a tendency to manipulate words to her advantage. Psychology professor Armand Latour (in)famously claimed that she was a clear case of a ‘’pathological liar’’ in his public speech of 2026 at the University of Houston, Texas, condemning Watson’s initial report of mythological creatures sighting as ‘’a bunch of delusional poppycock’’4. It is to be noted that a number of psychology experts, even at the times, spoke up against Dr. Latour’s accusation, denouncing the lack of scientific proof that would require such a diagnosis. Still, it was no secret that Watson’s was, to put it the most respectfully that I can, selective with her truths. 

The minor remaining problem would be that the testimony of the concerned mythological beings in question would, similarly, not be much more reliable for multiples factors, namely i) beings with a inhumanly life span tend to have less clear memories of the past5 or ii) their personalities and own tendency to highlight or diminish certain parts of the events. In good agreement, records hold several instances of various adventures, investigations or ‘’shenanigans’’ – as often referred to by the parties involved – involving Watson and the aforementioned mythological creatures that remain to this day, debated amongst scholars or aficionados of xenomythology as to the accuracy of the described events. 

However, of all the stories that were gathered through the years, a few are considered as ‘as close to the truth as possible’6 

In this segment, I will therefore explore the different records relating the first known interactions between Amelia Watson, M.D, PhD* and the first four mythological creatures ever revealed to the world, and subsequently, Dr. Watson’s close friends in several sub-segments: 

i) Takanashi Kiara: Anatomy of Ashes 

ii) Mori Calliope: Death through a magnifying glass

iii) Ninomae Ina’nis: Spilled Ink on a black canevas

iv) Gawr Gura: Blood in the water

*Note: sources remain unclear regarding specific topic and/or year of acquisition of several PhD thesis attributed to Watson

* * * * 

2Excerpt of ‘The Journal of Amelia Watson’, currently available at the London Museum of History

3Interview of [REDACTED] ‘Auntie’ Watson by the New York Times, 2036.

4Transcript of ‘’The Big Lie : how Amelia Watson is corrupting academic research’’, speech held by Pr. Armand Latour in 2023, University of Houston, Texas.

5‘A Hiccup in the Hippocampus: how time affects memory', Yagoorc Toenail, (2065), Nature

6‘The Whole Myth [English Translation]’, Jenma Manger, 2nd edition of 2078

\- Excerpt from the thesis of Amiki Holmes, PhD "When your time travelling detective goes out to buy cigerettes and never comes back: the life and work of Amelia Watson"


	2. Anatomy of Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Watson’s exposee of 2025, ‘Anatomy of Ashes’, on her experiences with phoenixes, and particularly her friend Takanashi Kiara, the collective conception of phoenixes, was widely different to what we know now. I believe that if one were to explain to Hesiod that the first confirmed, authentic Phoenix had spend her life adventuring and collecting odd jobs, ranging from being a flight attendant to a fast food restaurant manager, passing by international idol, self proclaimed part-time warrior or even holding a short lived career as a formula 1 driver that tragically lead to one of her rebirth when she crashed into a security barrier within the first two minutes of the race, I would wager that the poor lad would have a heart attack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have come to the realisation that writing is equally terrifying and endlessly fun because trying to match her chaotic energy while not going too ooc is a pretty fun balance to try and keep!

Anatomy of Ashes

The first mention of a Phoenix in the records of History dates back as far Ancient Greece, in the ‘Precepts of Chiron’, attributed to 6th century BC Greek poet Hesiod, wherein the centaur Chiron tells greek hero Achilles7 .

> _ A chattering crow lives out nine generations of aged men, _
> 
> _ but a stag's life is four time a crow's, _
> 
> _ and a raven's life makes three stags old, _
> 
> _ while the  _ **_phoenix_ ** _ outlives nine ravens, _
> 
> _ but we, the rich-haired Nymphs _
> 
> _ daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder, _
> 
> _ outlive ten  _ **_phoenixes_ ** _. _

In this work, I will restrain myself to the use of the term "Phoenix", that is intended to encompass all other terminology found in different languages and cultures referring to a mythical bird that has the ability to be reborn from its ashes. For a more detailed review about phoenixes, see ‘A song of Fire and Flight’ by P. Huke8 . 

Before continuing, it is to be noted that, in this and all the ensuing mentions of phoenixes in literature, no one has been able to confirm nor deny the precise identity of the mentioned phoenixes, or whether or not any of them was Takanashi Kiara. 

Takanashi Kiara is in herself a fascinating historical figure, and going into more detail about her life and accomplishments is, unfortunately, not the purpose of my work. However, for further insights about Phoenixes, and particularly Takanashi Kiara, I will direct the reader to the body of work ‘The Life of Takanashi Kiara, as told by a KFP employee’, encompassing several decades retelling the life of Takanashi by a former employee of hers, who wished to remain anonymous9 . 

Indeed, before Watson’s exposee of 2025, ‘Anatomy of Ashes’, on her experiences with phoenixes, and particularly her friend Takanashi Kiara, the collective conception of phoenixes, was widely different to what we know now. I believe that if one were to explain to Hesiod that the first confirmed, authentic Phoenix had spend her life adventuring and collecting odd jobs, ranging from being a flight attendant to a fast food restaurant manager, passing by international idol, self proclaimed part-time warrior or even holding a short lived career as a formula 1 driver that tragically lead to one of her rebirth when she crashed into a security barrier within the first two minutes of the race, I would wager that the poor lad would have a heart attack. 

Watson and Takanashi are believed to have met around the year 2020, although the exact location or date remain unknown. Reports from witnesses at the time, and the own words of Watson and Takanashi have been, if not lost, most likely deformed throughout time. The following text comes from the novel ‘’Hinotori [translated from japanese]’’10 , written by an anonymous author, that quickly became a literary sensation at the time of its release. Self published, the book holds no information as to the identity of its author, though many have speculated about it; numerous theories (some even verging on ‘conspiracy theories’) have emerged over the decades, with more or less convincing evidence that the author could have been either Watson or Takanashi themselves. These claims, although never clearly denied by the concerned persons, have however subsided over the years, as the prevalent theory nowadays puts forwards the elusive person referred as ‘Enma’ as the potential novelist (cf. Part I, paragraph 7 for more about ‘Enma’). This mystery remains, to this day, unsolved…

Note : the italic annotations are my personal commentary on the original text. 

" " "

> […]
> 
> Amelia’s heart was racing in her ribcage; the rhythmic sound of arterial blood pumping in her ears was deafening. Short of breath, she turned at the corner of an alley and stopped to catch her breath, slamming her back against the concrete wall. The sun was setting, and that was bad news for her. Though it would provide more cover, it would also lower her visibility, and she only had a few bullets left in her charger. She shot a glance behind her shoulder, making sure no one was following her, before crossing the alley to reach the busy street. She was usually reluctant to enter crowded places in those situations as she refused to cause collateral damages, however in this case, desperate situations called for desperate measures. Lowering her cap on her face in a poor attempt to hide her identity – as if her long, billowing beige trench coat with straps on her back was not already a dead giveaway – she made her way through the sea of people, directionless. 
> 
> Eventually, something caught her eye, in the distance. A blinking neon light, reading ‘Kiara’s Fried Phoenix, Open 24/7’, perched above a simple looking fast food restaurant, squeezed between a pawn shop and a bookstore. 
> 
> A hand on her shoulder made her heart skip a beat. She spun around, hand on the gun in her holster strapped to her right thigh, a twitching finger on the trigger. She was met with an annoyed glare as a middle aged man pushed her aside without ceremony, continuing his way on the sidway. Amelia’s hand relaxed, but not the rest of her body. Following her instincts, she raced to the diner, hoping to pass as an inconspicuous client in a generic diner. 
> 
> The door opened with a chime, followed with a shout. 
> 
> "Kikirrikiiiiiiiii!".
> 
> Well, so much for a discreet entrance. 
> 
> Amelia looked up, startled by the scream – greeting? – and found herself dumbfounded by three things. Her brain paused as it processed the incongruous information. First, the shout came from a smiling woman holding a broom in front of the counter: her hair was bright orange with a gradient of teal towards the tips, matching the two large feather earrings dangling from her ears  _ [note: Takanashi has repeatedly insisted that those are not earrings, but rather actual phoenix feather growing out of her hair] _ , she was wearing what could have been considered a typical fast food uniform in the same color scheme if not for the ridiculously short skirt that came with it, barely covering her thighs. Amelia’s brain may have stopped for a second longer than necessary at the unexpected, though not unwelcomed, sight. The outfit was completed by not one, but two hats she wore on each side of her head, a red beret and a tiny chef hat. However, the most striking feature on this already colorful portrait was her bright eyes colored with purple hue, only outshined by her wide grin. 
> 
> Everything about this woman was confusing or distracting, however, the incongruity of the situation only grew when Amelia noticed the second, completely bizarre thing in this restaurant: there was a chicken behind the cash register. Propped on a stupidly high stool, the chicken was wearing a matching red beret and a little scarf tied around its neck. Amelia met its eyes. It blinked, uninterested. 
> 
> The third thing Amelia’s brain did process, although it almost became background noise in front of this cacophony of weirdness, was that the restaurant was completely empty. 
> 
> The sound of the woman clearing her throat pulled Amelia out of her confused transe, and she muttered pathetically. "Hum, good evening. Do you-", and it dawned on her that she actually had no idea what she was doing here. "Do you have coffee?" she settled for. 
> 
> A bright smile still on her lips, the woman answered: "No, we don’t! But that’s actually a good idea, we should definitely add that to the menu.", she mused as she turned around to the chicken as if … she was talking to it?  _ [note : countless references to Takanashi's fondness of chicken have been recorded, and as many references to the chicken as ‘employees’. Nonetheless, no one has been able to determine if Takanashi effectively communicated with the chicken, and them with her.] _
> 
> A wave of exhaustion passed through Amelia, and she felt like either laughing hysterically, or crying. Or both. 
> 
> "Okay… So, what  _ do _ you have ?" she started, before interrupting herself, shaking her head, unable to let it go. "Wait, I’m sorry, how do you  _ not _ have coffee? You’re a 24/7 diner". 
> 
> Before Amelia could regret her borderline aggressive tone, the woman – waitress? – laughed. "I’m kinda new at this actually, I’m still figuring out the ropes."
> 
> " _ Learning _ the ropes?". Amelia felt the beginning of a migraine come. 
> 
> "Oh that’s it, ‘learning the ropes’." That’s when Amelia detected a hint of an accent in her intonations. From somewhere in Europe, most likely. "So far, we have pheonix burgers!" she exclaimed with pride. "And that’s about it, but now, I will definitely add coffee."
> 
> Glancing behind her through the glass door, Amelia noticed several menacing figures walking up and down the street. They were still looking for her. With urgency, she turned to the waitress. 
> 
> "Sounds good, I’ll have that one.", she said with urgency before rushing to a booth. Unfazed by Amelia’s strange behaviour, the woman made an excited noise, clapping her hands, and headed towards the kitchen. And Amelia was left with the chicken, who merely stared. 
> 
> She leaned against the leather seat, letting out a sigh of relief as adrenaline washed out of her system. She remained alert, keeping her eyes fixed on the windows, ready to spring into action at any sign of trouble. But for the time being, she let herself appreciate the respite provided by the tiny diner. 
> 
> After a dozen minutes, and a worrying amount of noises, clanging and swearing coming from the kitchen, the waitress reappeared with what looked like food on a platter. With an exaggerated motion, she presented the plate to Amelia, placing it with care on the table, as the detective blanked at the sight. A miserable piece of meat – of unknown origin– stood between two slices of generic burger bread, with a few bits of sad salad hanging out of it. Amelia looked up at expectant eyes staring at her. The woman was obviously waiting for her to eat, and probably give her opinion; Amelia did not have the heart to disappoint the vibrant, joyful being in front of her. With a defeated sight, plastering a neutral expression on her face, she took the burger in her hand and took a bite. 
> 
> It wasn’t as bad as Amelia expected by the look of the thing. Though lacking in, well,  _ ingredients _ , the meat itself – that she identified as chicken – was well cooked, and it actually did bring comfort to the exhausted time traveller. She let out a satisfied hum, swallowing the bite which seemed to delight the waitress who squealed, smiling even brighter. Out the corner of her eyes, Amelia threw an apologetic glance at the cashier chicken. 
> 
> "So, what do you think?", the waitress asked as she sat down in front of Amelia, joining her hands in front of her and resting her chin on them. She was emitting excitement out of her like radiation that warmed Amelia’s heart, and for a moment, the blonde completely forgot about her predicament, and let herself bask in the warmth of the Kiara Friend Phoenix diner. 
> 
> Her critical mind took over and she responded. "Well, it’s pretty good for a start, but it definitely could be better."Attentive, the woman nodded. "First, you need a bit more than salad and meat, like tomatoes, pickles, cheese, and most importantly, sauce." She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brow in concentration. Amelia continued. "Then, you need something else to be a side dish, like salad or fries, or nuggets. With more sauce to dip."
> 
> The woman nodded again, as if taking mental notes. "Okay, okay, I see. What’s your favourite sauce?"
> 
> Amelia paused, pensively. "Hum, I don’t think I have any actually. Personally, I prefer no sauce, but your average customer will want some." She explained. "Also, you need badges." Noticing the quizzed expression on her interlocutor's face, Amelia expanded. "With your name on it. People like it when they know the name of their waiter and cashier."
> 
> For the first time since entering the diner, the woman lost her cheery attitude, which took Amelia by surprise. "Hey! I’m not a waitress, I’m the manager!", she exclaimed with force. Apologetic, Amelia raised her palms in a defensive motion. Immediately, the woman dropped her fiery attitude, offering a hand to Amelia who just started, dumbfounded by the whiplash. "I’m Takanashi Kiara, by the way"
> 
> Amelia took her hand. Either her hand was particularly cold, or Kiara’s hand was especially warm.  _ [note: when one introduces themselves in japanese, the surname is placed before the first name, in opposition to western introduction. The fact here, the character Amelia, immediately acknowledges’ Kiara’ as Takanashi’s first name could be an indication that the setting is in Japan, however it would also be merely an effect of the japanese to english translation.] _
> 
> "Amelia Watson."
> 
> Amelia was usually a very careful person. However, at this moment, the combination of a day worth of running around the city and ensuing fighting, and the incongruous although warm atmosphere of the diner had dulled her senses, and that’s why she missed the shadows passing by the windows of KFP. 
> 
> Both women, and the chicken, jumped when the entrance’s double doors slammed open as three men in dark suits barged in, guns in hand. 
> 
> After an agonizing moment of surprise, Amelia ducked under the table before flipping it over her and Kiara, effectively providing shelter for the both of them. Had Amelia paid more attention to the manager, she would have noticed how Kiara’s eyes focused without missing a beat, a fearless fire behind them. 
> 
> Three shots rang, one hitting the diner table, passing through the wood one centimeter away from Amelia’s cheek, the two other resulting in two bodies hitting the floor, blood staining shiny leather expensive shoes. 
> 
> The one remaining assailant mirrored Amelia’s action, ducking behind cover, firing three rounds that hit the wall behind. Completely forgetting the presence next to her, Amelia checked her charger. Three left. Taking in a deep breath, she decided it was all or nothing, and stood up, pointing her gun towards her enemy. Taking a long stride, she made her way around the table where he was taking cover. 
> 
> Two things happened at once. Amelia started firing, one bullet hitting the wood which exploded in hundreds of splinters, temporarily distracting the man in the dark suit who dropped his guard, granting Amelia a perfect opportunity for a headshot. At the same time, Kiara screamed her name, a second too late. 
> 
> As Amelia’s penultimate bullet crushed her opponent’s skull, another one broke the diner’s window, revealing a forth assailant standing on the sidewalk. The detective almost saw the bullet coming towards her in slow motion, before her body was thrown to the floor as Kiara launched herself against her. Purely instinctively, Amelia raised her arm, still lying on the floor, aiming for a figure outside the diner, firing her last bullet which hit its target square in the heart. 
> 
> Silence fell on KFP, soon broke a weak, scared ‘bok’ emerging from below the cash register. 
> 
> Amelia sat up on the floor, mortified. "Kiara, I am so, so, so sorry for this. I swear, I will fix everything that was- Kiara?"
> 
> It was only then that Amelia noticed that, on the orange uniform of Kiara, was growing a circle of dark red. The manager let out a pained cough. Immediately, Amelia clasped her hand against Kiara’s stomach, trying her best to compress the wound. Kiara’s skin already felt hot, and Amelia’s blood froze in her veins. _What had she done?_
> 
> "Shit, shit, shit, shit. Kiara I’m so sorry. You’re gonna be alright. I’m gonna call an ambulance. You’re gonna be alright. I can fix this, I can fix this." She repeated, her voice laced with dread and guilt. 
> 
> Kiara smiled at her, and it made her want to cry. ‘’Hey, it’s gonna be alright. Don’t worry.’’
> 
> Had Amelia’s brain been functioning properly, she would have noticed that Kiara’s calm expression was not one of hope – as a dying person would hold on to hope – but of confidence. The confidence of someone who knew exactly what was going to happen.
> 
> "Yeah, exactly. It’s gonna be alright. Just breathe. Stay with me" As blood pooled between her fingers, Amelia’s brain couldn’t help but calculate the time Kiara had left because the blood loss would be too much for her body to handle.  _ Not enough time to call an ambulance _ , her brain analyzed. 
> 
> ‘’Amelia.’’, Kiara’s firm voice cut through the panicked mumble of the detective, effectively shutting her up. "It’s going to be alright." She pronounced every word with insistence, staring into blue eyes. "But you might want to stand back for this."
> 
> Amelia registered the words, and then acknowledged the rising heat against her skin that was definitely not coming from Kiara’s bleeding out. Mouth agape, Amelia recoiled in awe as smoke arose from Kiara’s body, soon followed by flames, illuminating the diner with intense, bright light. When Amelia couldn’t sustain it anymore, she shielded her eyes behind her elbow, moving away from the pyre. 
> 
> Suddenly, the flames went out as quickly as they came, leaving behind a pile of ashes and concentric circles of scorch marks on the tiled floor. Before Amelia could move – or she may have been frozen in place for longer then she thought – something moved within the cinder. An arm emerged from the ashes, then a leg, and other, then a torso, and finally, Kiara sat up, skin blackened by dark ashes. She blinked a few times, before turning her gaze to Amelia who had stopped breathing, jaw hanging, bewildered. Initially, she looked lost, looking quizzically at Amelia before the clouds of confusion behind her eyes slowly faded away, and the glint of wonder and excitement that first greeted Amelia reappeared in her pupils. 
> 
> "Well, that was surprisingly quick. Lucky he was a good shot!". She laughed lightly, pressing fingers to her stomach, where a bullet hole once was. 
> 
> The gesture did remind Amelia was Kiara was, in her current state, stark naked and covered in cinder. Wordlessly and shitfing her gaze away in embarassment, Amelia shrugged off her trench coat, offering it to Kiara as a flush reddened her cheeks. 
> 
> Once the diner manager covered, Amelia finally turned back to her, her brain spinning as she was still trying to process everything that had happened. Kiara shot her a stern, though devoid of actual aggression, look. 
> 
> "You could say thank you, you know. I did just save your life.", she proudly announced. 
> 
> Amelia’s natural side came back rushing. "Hey! I had the situation under control. I could totally have made it without you!"
> 
> " " "

\- excerpt Hinotori (2027), 1st edition, Hololive Press.

As previously mentioned, this is believed to be the most accurate depiction of Watson and Takanashi’s first meeting, although probably embellished by narrative choices of the author. Given than the KFP franchise, that did started as a handful of diners scattered around the globe which gain in importance throughout the years, lacked any proper accounting books or managing ledger, the exact number or location of KFP diners at the early beginning are unknown, preventing the identification of the diner mentioned in the book. The description of the damages done by the phoenix fire (found further in the book) are also of no help, as many KFP diners have been destroyed by arson, usually of unknown origin at the time of the events. 

Watson and Takanashi’s relationship was a playful and mischievous one. Many testimony of contemporains have reported incessant banter, jovial wittiness and teasing, indicating a deep friendship between the women. This particular event of Takanashi allegedly saving Watson’s life in their first meeting , and Watson's insistence that she would have survived on her own,has been verified by many witness testimonies which provided further claim that the book ‘Hinotori’ was a surprisingly accurate recollection of Takanashi’s life regarding her encounters with Watson.

* * * * 

7Evelyn-White (1920: 75-75).

8‘A song of Fire and Flight (2089), P. Huke, Japanese Journal of Ornithology

9‘The Life of Takanashi Kiara, as told by a KFP employee’ (2029), anonymous

10Hinotori”, translation by Aya Shinno (2027), 1st edition, Hololive Press.


	3. Death through a magnifying glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [...] one can’t help but wonder what she thought of Amelia Watson’s wandering through time, and escaping the normal course of a human life. While her friendly rivalry with Takanashi Kiara was of common knowledge - although she had always made a point of reminding the public on a plethora of occasions that Takanashi was a dear friend of hers - due to the fact that Phoenixes, by their very nature, defy the purposes of Shinigamis, the same cannot be said about Mori and Watson. Watson, through her writings, has always expressed a deep respect and reverence - maybe even laced with a bit of weariness? - towards Mori who appeared to reciprocate.
> 
> [...]
> 
> As far as we are aware, Watson has never been explicitly mentioned in any of Mori’s lyrics or poems, not in the way Takanashi Kiara has. However, I do ponder my words on that last statement as I found a poem that, I believe, was written by Mori about Watson. While she’s not named per se in the poem, the subtext is heavily referencial to time-travelling, uncannily so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here's the calli part. a bit shorter than some other parts, but the attempt at making something somewhat resembling poetry sucked all the inspiration i had left so, yeah, bon appétit.

**Death through a magnifying glass**

[...]

As mentioned previously, the personification of Death can be found in many cultures and civilizations throughout history, and the familiar depiction of a black hooded figure swinging a large, obsidian scythe is no stranger to the common man, which begs the question: what came first? Did Mori always adopt this outside image of a beautiful, light haired woman in black robes, or did she specifically choose this image to fit the people’s conception of an angel of death? 

This eternal question of the chicken or the egg had never been answered by the concerned party, therefore everything going from there is pure speculation that I elected not to engage with in this work. Instead, I’d rather ask the question: when did Amelia Watson first meet death? Contrary to Takanashi’s life that has been pretty well documented ever since her reveal to the world, Mori Calliope’s whereabouts throughout history are blurry at best, and complete fabrications of near death survivors at worst12 . The first mention of Mori in Watson’s journal cannot be considered as their first interaction, as she merely recounts an investigation of hers, set in 1962, Dublin, Germany where Mori is merely mentioned casually13. 

Considering the lack of substantive facts in Watson’s journal, I decided to take an interest in the depiction of death in art; for the purposes of this thesis, I unfortunately did not have the luxury of doing as much as an exhaustive research as I would have liked, so I had to limit myself to specific techniques, namely paintings on canvases. Out of the 2769 paintings I reviewed ranging from the period 1300 to the current times, with the help of several art undergraduates (cited in my acknowledgments), 444 that I could find were representations that fit more or less Mori’s usual description. However, I could tie only one to Dr. Watson. 

The painting14, by the artist under the moniker Mask, depicts a pile of mutilated, female corpses under a cloudy, dark sky. The ray of lights, tainted in hue of red and crimson makes the painting look like it's bleeding. Kneeling beside them, a figure in dark robes is bowing her head down, with only a few strands of hair - light pink with red reflections - falling in front of her, a large scythe strapped to her back, unmistakably representing Mori. In the background, merging with the shadows, we can discern a silhouette, face obscured, whose only distinguishable features are a long coat adorned with brown straps, and the glint of a golden pocket watch, barely peeking out of the pocket. The painting, dated from 1888, simply titled ‘Blood red chapel’ is most liekly a reference to the spree of murders that occured in Whitechapel by the serial killer known as: Jack the Ripper. 

Evidently, I cannot in good conscious claim with assurance that Mori and Watson’s first meeting occurred during this time, as the implication of Watson in those investigations have never been confirmed, only rumoured; nor can I assert with assurance that those two characters in the painting are indeed Mori and Watson. However, I also cannot let the uncanny resemblance go unnoticed. 

[...]

Having made a name in music, where she colloquially earned the witty nickname ‘Grim Rapper’, Mori's talents for words and lyricism need not be proven. However, what is not of common knowledge is that she also had a liking for writing poetry as well as haikus. Her lyrics and poetry were usually self-reflective, as if she was trying to find her place in the world of humans she had been estranged from for an unknown period of time. From upbeat, rapidly spoken rap describing her personality and state of mind to slower, almost melancholic melodies, each song feels deeply personal, like a confession of a friend in the dead of night. 

As mentioned in earlier paragraphs, very little is known about the exact mechanics of becoming a Shinigami. Was she human, at one point? If that was the case, did she remember her previous life? How did she experience emotions, if any? It would appear that those same questions were on her mind. In the lyrics “Do I despise human life? Something really I ain't thought of But I die inside a little when we say, "じゃあ、また" she appears as if she’s questioning her opinion about humans while still feeling for them, and she does question the preconceived mentality of the Shinigamis about their indifference to humans - this sentiment is also echoed in on passage of the song Cursed Night “Part of the joke is that it's all that I've known”1516. It seems to speak of a certain dichotomy within Mori, where she had to compartmentalize her Shinigami duties on one part, and on the other the ties she had formed with other beings (humans or not). 

In that regard, one can’t help but wonder what she thought of Amelia Watson’s wandering through time, and escaping the normal course of a human life. While her friendly rivalry with Takanashi Kiara was of common knowledge - although she had always made a point of reminding the public on a plethora of occasions that Takanashi was a dear friend of hers - due to the fact that Phoenixes, by their very nature, defy the purposes of Shinigamis, the same cannot be said about Mori and Watson. Watson, through her writings, has always expressed a deep respect and reverence - maybe even laced with a bit of weariness? - towards Mori who appeared to reciprocate. In a passage of her journal, she describes Mori in those terms: “an imposing presence, but strangely not as threatening as I would have thought. She carries herself with poise and grace, expressing herself with carefully crafted words, like she’s erecting an invisible wall between her and everyone else. She’s just exuding a peculiar aura, a mix of ‘don’t fuck with me, you’ll regret it’ and ‘I’ll always be there for you if you need me’ that sometimes disconcert me. Part of me wants to poke the bear, and see how far she’ll let me go.”17

As far as we are aware, Watson has never been explicitly mentioned in any of Mori’s lyrics or poems, not in the way Takanashi Kiara has18. However, I do ponder my words on that last statement as I found a poem that, I believe, was written by Mori about Watson. While she’s not named per se in the poem, the subtext is heavily referencial to time-travelling, uncannily so. 

This poem was part of a collection of poems and haikus that Mori donated during the charity event Books for Youth - organised by several charity funds to provide free book and reading lessons to young children whose family could not afford proper education, held in 2034 in Los Angeles, which gathered a total of 6 million USD during the fund raising events. Most of them were immediately donated to various museums throughout the world, but some remained in private collections until the death of the owners. One of those was previously owned by Mr. Leo Ted and was willed to his son Vincent Ted who graciously agreed to donate it for the University of Tokyo in the context of my research. 

The poem, titled 'planetary nebula’, is unfortunately not dated, but is signed by Mori, and read as follows:

> Somewhere in space, there’s a star – and it has your name written on it 
> 
> A cluster of matter ablaze, restless
> 
> Burning through itself until ashes are left
> 
> Or a black hole
> 
> Tell me, how does it feel, to swallow time?
> 
> Somewhere in time, there’s a chair – and it’s waiting for you
> 
> A place to rest your weathered bones, peaceful
> 
> Worn thin like a razor blade through patience
> 
> Or the last page of a book
> 
> Tell me, does it scare you, to witness time?
> 
> Tick tock, goes the clock
> 
> Like a heartbeat - enumerable
> 
> What is Law, to a cheater and a liar
> 
> What is Law, to lovers and family
> 
> Tell me, do you think you can do it, outrun time?
> 
> Tell me, when there’s nothing left to burn
> 
> Tell me, when you’re out of breath
> 
> Tell me, in the End, what will you do?
> 
> As for me, I shall hold your hand.

\- planetary nebula // c.m

The first notable aspect of the poem is the repeated reference to time, which I propose to be references to Watson and her time-travelling capacity. If that’s the case, in this poem, Mori associates Watson with a burning star, not only in the first paragraph and also in the title - a planetary nebula being the name of a star at the latest stage of its life. This is in good agreement of the description of Watson as being a very driven person, full of life and energy, and was sometimes compared to the Sun by the people close to her. The allegory is however laced with a hint of melancholy, or even tragedy, as Mori depicts this star at the end of its life, ‘burning through itself’, and this facet is insisted upon with the addition of the ‘black hole’ allegory. Furthermore, the juxtaposition of the concept of ‘swallowing time’ perfectly applies to Watson, and her time travelling watch. 

The second paragraph continues and insists on this notion of the end of a life, depicting a place to ‘rest [one’s] bones’, an obvious reference to a funeral or sorts. The end of this verse would furthermore suggest that Watson was, in fact, anxious or scared about her own death. As someone who could move through timelines, and who was not tied by a linear conception of time like the rest of humanity, one can’t help but wonder how such a person experiences common phenomena like aging and death. 

The third paragraph is what makes me wonder about potential contentious, or maybe contradictory feelings held by Mori about Watson. Mori has always described herself, and in her role as a Shinigami - that she called ‘job’ - as very professional and efficient. In that regard, as a person who embodies the normal course of a human life, what was her opinion on Watson’s life? The first sentences of the verse are reminders that life is, or should be, finite, and a human heart that beats is bound to stop at some point. The capitalized ‘Law’ , therefore, appears to be in this context the Law of Life and Death, and Watson the cheater and the liar. But immediately after, the sentiment is counterbalanced with a paralleled, and contrasting phrase, expressing Watson’s ties and human connection in the form of loved ones and the notion of family, that I believe Mori included herself into. And then the question is raised; did Watson believe she could outrun her time? While we may not have an answer to this, Mori did offer an answer to my previously stated query about her views on Watson, and her death: in the end, she would be there for Watson, holding her hand. 

As I will go in further detail later in the third segment of this thesis (Part III: when does a time-traveler’s time end?), the details of Watson’s disappearance, and presumed death, are nonexistent, and very little facts are known about it, including whether Mori was the one who took her soul or not. 

However, this poem does hold a certain sense of reassurance, to think that, in Watson’s last moments, she would have been with a friend by her side.

* * * * 

‘12Debunking claims of encounters with Death’, by A. Sadler, New York Times, 2031

13Excerpt of ‘The Journal of Amelia Watson’, currently available at the London Museum of History

‘14Blood red chapel’, Mask, oil on canvas, 1888

15Live Again, Mori Calliope (2020)

16Cursed Nights, Mori Calliope (2020)

17Excerpt of ‘The Journal of Amelia Watson’, currently available at the London Museum of History

18失礼しますが、RIP, Mori Calliope (2020)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i did slip a little reference to another one of my fic in there (grief if the price we pay for love), because scientists are nothing if not self-referencial in their work :p  
> Also, the charity is inspired by 826LA
> 
> Also, the name of the artists 'Mask' is a reference to a friend who allowed me to use their pseudo for this. While the painting in the chapter is fictional, you should definitely check their art on twitter @Mask02020445


	4. Spilled ink on a black canevas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first reported mention of Ninomae’s name in Watson’s journal, while not dated, appeared contemporary to Takanashi and Mori, and has been therefore attributed to the years of the 2020s. In the excerpt Watson mentions “[…] and pass by Ina’s to chill out, and maybe eat tome takoyakis – I need a goddamn break or I’m gonna explode. Maybe I can bribe her into giving me a massage.’’ However, the belief that this was one of the first encounters between Watson and Ninomae is, according to my own research, a misconception. If we take a look a an incomplete file of Watson’s case report regarding strange disappearances in a unnamed town during the 1970s, while Ninomae is not referred to by name, nor the CotAO clearly stated to be involved, several lies of evidence within the notes of a stake out outside a disaffected warehouse that Watson conducted, dated from 1973, lead me to believe that this was her first meeting with High Priestess Ninomae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was lowkey inspired by the podcast 'Within the Wires' (season 2), by Night Vale Presents. If you have not listened to it yet, do yourself a favor and do it now!

**Spilled ink on black canevas**

[…]

The cult, nowadays referred to as ‘The Cult of the Ancient One’ (CotAO), still a controversial topic as to its precise nature, and has held many designation over the years – cult, religion, sect – but no one has been able to precisely determine its origin. Even Watson’s own writing remains surprisingly vague in terms of details. While many theoriciens have tried to tie links with previously known cults, such as the Black Brotherhood, The Esoteric Order of Dagon or The Church of Starry Wisdom, it is still unclear whether or not any of those are part of, derivate from or are completely separate from CotAO. 

Needless to say, the most high profile figure of this cult is High Priestess Ninomae Ina’nis, apparent leader of the known branch of the CotAO, but it is not to be excluded that there might be other prominent personalities that we are not aware of. Indeed the hierarchy, organisation, or quite frankly purpose of CotAO has never been explicited, neither by the cult members themselves, nor Dr. Watson. Remarkably enough, while there is no question as to Watson and Ninomae’s close bond, one cannot help but to raise eyebrows to the fact that very little investigation of the cult, nor Ninomae’s role in it has been reported by Watson. Now, at this point, it has to be noted that while many of Watson’s investigation reports have been recovered, the exact number of what has been lost to time, and what we have now in our possession is unknown. It is very possible that Watson’s findings on CotAO have simply never been found.

By all standards, Ninomae Ina’nis is an enigmatic figure. While her existence has never been questioned, very little is actually known about her, even going as far as her physical appearance. Despite her alleged insistence on being human, all existing depictions of her combines elements of bodily modifications. However, let’s highlight the fact that, by ‘depiction’, I am referring to either i) various more or less reliable witness testimonies or ii) pieces of art whose availability is extremely controlled by the members of CotAO. 

Indeed, Ninomae, unlike her contemporaries like Takanashi or even Mori, appears to have never been captured in photographs. Or, if they existed, those photographs have never been found, or have been destroyed over the years. All that remain are abstract representations of the Priestess, still recognisable in painting by her distinctive, slim, delicate figure and ink black air, purple eyes and violet and orange color palettes. It is therefore difficult to discern what Ninomae actually looked like, and what had been added, reproducted and copied over the years. It is not uncommon that depictions of historical figures, through countless reproduction based on a similar mental image of the person, transformed over the year to something that bears little to no resemblance to the actual person – for perfect example of this phenomenon, look no further than the Christian figure Jesus, who, while stated as born in the Middle East thousand of years ago, has been widely represented for hundred of years in western cultures with a white complexion and clear eyes. Therefore, Ninomae’s widely accepted, non-human traits such as alien protuberance on the top of her head, tentacle-like appendages on the side of her face, pointy ears and sharp canines, or even in some cases, actual tentacles emerging from her back, might very well be i) a deformation of the collective mind over the years or ii) intentional propaganda from CotAO. 

Nonetheless, as previously mentioned, no doubt can be casted on the fact that Ninomae was very close to Watson. If not in her scientifict or investigative writings, multiple mentions of Ninomae can be found in the excerpt from Watson’s journal. If Takanashi and Mori could be considered ‘partners in crime’ in a number of Watson’s peripecias, I believe Ninomae would earn the title of ‘confident’. In several instances throughout Watson’s diary – where she’s referred to with the nickname ‘Ina’ – we can see that Watson would often seek the company of Ninomae for comfort, advices, in times of doubt or angst, or sometimes even for mere ‘nightly relaxing chat and tea degustation’. 19

Watson’s mental health has been widely discussed - and quite frankly gossiped about - over the years, whether in good faith or not, in the academic community, but the discussion of theories and conspiracy are not the subject of this work. I am instead referring to her own description of what appears to be anxiety and panic attack, night terrors, and transitory cognitive impairment that, we now know, can be attributed to repetitive time travelling20. According to her journal, Ninomae’s presence and company had a calming effect on Watson’s nerves, and that she could always lean on her cool-headedness and calm attitude which was always beneficiary to Watson. Now, the precise nature of the relationship between Watson and Ninomae, as many things regarding Watson’s personal life, can only be speculated upon. Indeed, if Watson’s affection for ‘Ina’ is no secret, a deeper bond than friendship between the two also cannot be completely excluded.

The first reported mention of Ninomae’s name in Watson’s journal, while not dated, appeared contemporary to Takanashi and Mori, and has been therefore attributed to the years of the 2020s. In the excerpt Watson mentions “[…] and pass by Ina’s to chill out, and maybe eat tome takoyakis – I need a goddamn break or I’m gonna explode. Maybe I can bribe her into giving me a massage.’’ However, the belief that this was one of the first encounters between Watson and Ninomae is, according to my own research, a misconception. If we take a look a an incomplete file of Watson’s case report regarding strange disappearances in a unnamed town during the 1970s, while Ninomae is not referred to by name, nor the CotAO clearly stated to be involved, several lies of evidence within the notes of a stake out outside a disaffected warehouse that Watson conducted, dated from 1973, lead me to believe that this was her first meeting with High Priestess Ninomae:

"""

> Excerpt from Dr. Watson’s notes - Casefile #293
> 
> July, 16th - 1973
> 
> Stakeout started at 8h00. Currently positioned at the Pungent Diner (wtf is this name btw) with a clear view of the front entrance of the warehouse, as well as the alley going to the back entrance. 
> 
> _12h30_ : no movement yet. The coffee tastes like ass. This is going to be a long few days. 
> 
> _15h47_ : a man appears to be heading towards the entrance.
> 
> _15h48_ : false alarm, didn’t even approach it. 
> 
> _16h27_ : im bored, Im bored, im bored, Im bored. Im gonna order the cappuccino, maybe it’ll taste better. 
> 
> _16h41_ : it didn’t. 
> 
> _17h20_ : notes on the persons present at the diners. There appears to be only two employees at this diner - not surprising considering its size, localisation, and general condition. Or quite frankly, the taste of their food and drinks. The owner is a middle aged balding man, around 1m58, has not shaved in a few days, or showered for even longer. While courteous with the clients, unpleasant with employee n°2. The waitress looks about 30-ish, sandy blond hair, and looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. Very nice though - she brought me an extra slice of cake. He seems to work mostly in the mornings, and she the afternoon. 
> 
> Two regulars to be noted - a sailor working at the dock, comes in around 9h for breakfast, and an old lady knitting a scarf, who enjoys - for some reasons - their tea and chocolate pudding. 
> 
> A few more clients went in and out - no notable person of interest at the moment. 
> 
> _18h12_ : Their latte isn’t much better. Maybe if I drown everything in sugar…
> 
> _22h03_ : do you ever regret a series of decisions that brought you at a specific point in your life?
> 
> _23h59_ : end of day 1.
> 
> July 17th, 1973
> 
> _8h06:_ Back at it again. the guy i bribed to check the entrance during the night had nothing to report. Here we go again
> 
> _9h39_ : thought about bringing a dictaphone instead of writing but it occured to me that 1) it would be hella weird to just be talking to myself, and i’m not sure I want to hear myself rambling. i do that enough already in writing; 2) it would just be 75% of me drinking coffee that tastes like piss and eating cardboard pie and 3) if i write, people will think i’m just an edgy writer who is people seeing at a diner and working on their manuscript. Better cover story. 
> 
> _10h12_ : the waitress brought me a free coffee refill. I have to remember to tip her extra. Sailor man went to take his breakfast and left. Nothing else to report. i’m bored. 
> 
> _13h47_ : another client is using the diner as their work station apparently. Young woman - probably around my age, maybe a bit younger?. She’s reading a book and doodling. I should warn her about the coffee. 
> 
> _15h39_ : maybe it’s me, or the coffee is getting better? or I have no taste buds left. Still no one has even looked at the warehouse. 
> 
> _17h28_ : Knitting Grandma left, Doodling girl remains. And then they were two. 
> 
> _19h56_ : Pretty sure I saw Waitress tapping into the Tip Jar. You go girl, stick it to the old man. 
> 
> _23h55_ : Doodle Girl just left. Diner is closing, like my hope for this case. I swear, if I don’t have anything to report, Commissioner Leroy is gonna be on my ass and that’s the last thing i need. i’m at the point where I’m almost hoping for shady stuff to happen at this warehouse. 
> 
> July 18th - 1973 
> 
> _8h02_ : I don't even know if i hate the coffee, or if i love it. someone please save me. Dickhead Manager is behind the desk and glaring at me. 
> 
> _10h27_ : Doodling girl is at it again, with the same book and doodles. She’s wearing a hoodie on her head, which kinda clashes with her whole ‘nice and proper girl’ attitude. Not that I'm judging outfits - i have been wearing the same trench coat throughout many centuries. I’m curious about the book though - maybe she has good taste and i can get a good ref. Sailor passed by. He smiled at me one his way out. I’m becoming an official regular of this place. How the mighty have fallen. 
> 
> _14h41_ : Tried to catch a glimpse of Doodle Girl’s book, but got distracted by the drawings. Some were simple posture studies, a few backgrounds, including several angles of the diner, and I’m pretty sure one was of me, stirring my coffee and staring out the window. I got a bit embarrassed - not by the drawing itself, but by the fact that she clearly caught me sneaking a glance. I pretended I didn’t see anything. She probably pretended the same. Still nothing on the book though. And the fact that this is becoming my main source of obsession clearly tells a lot about my mental state. I NEED SOMETHING TO HAPPEN. 
> 
> _16h54_ : Dickhead Manager passed by. heard him talking shit about me to Waitress. The fuck is his problem, I’m spending way to much money on his shitty services for this kind of treatment. 
> 
> _23h45_ : Still nothing. I can’t be wrong about this place. It wouldn’t make sense… Am I wrong about this place?
> 
> J uly 19th - 1973 
> 
> _8h27_ : tonight, I dreamt I was chased by a chocolate pudding while Knitting Grandma was laughing at me. I’m officially losing it. I asked Waitress if I could have bourbon with my coffee. She laughed. I’m not sure if I was serious or not. 
> 
> _9h36_ : Doodle Girl arrived, this time with an orange beanie. Suits her quite well. She winked at me when she noticed me looking. God I’m officially a creep. 
> 
> _10h51_ : Doodle Girl came to my table and gave me a drawing - a chibi version of me with a dead expression, with 10 cups of coffee stacked up on the table. Told me she felt inspired, but it would have felt weird to keep it, so she handed it to me. I laughed and thanked her - that was nice of her. I wish i could have reciprocated, but I fear handing her my notes about the habits and whereabouts of everyone in a 60ft radius of this diner would have been inappropriate. 
> 
> _11h18_ : after much deliberation as to what was the least disgusting thing in their menu, I decided to send a piece of strawberry cake to her table. She seemed to appreciate it. 
> 
> _14h22_ : god, just re-read my notes, this sounds so unprofessional. here’s to hoping Leroy never finds those or he’ll never let me work with the department again… I gotta focus. People have disappeared, i can’t let myself get distracted. 
> 
> _23h47_ : still nothing. maybe i should go in - despite Leroy’s explicit order - and see for myself? I’m getting restless, and nothing ever good comes out of that. 
> 
> July 20th - 1973
> 
> _8h23_ : a bird landed on the warehouse rooftop. I am riveted. 
> 
> _12h52_ : you know what, fuck it, anf fuck professional. Leroy, if you’re reading this, fuck you too. Dickhead Manager keeps sneering at me, and I swear i’m that close to snapping. I’m sure Waitress will help me hide the body. (It’s a joke, Leroy). Knitting Grandma just arrived, and saluted me. I am officially one of them. I hate it here. 
> 
> _14h09_ : Doodle Girl arrived and took her usual table. today, she’s wearing a beret. looks cute. 
> 
> _17h57_ : do you know what happens when you mix bad coffee and bad tea? well, nothing tasty, let me tell you that. 
> 
> _21h44_ : i’m starting to doubt myself, and i hate when that happens. everything points to this place being the potential shrine, so why is nothing happening? Is there a secret entrance? do they know about my presence? am i missing something?
> 
> _23h52_ : something happened! … SIKE (got you, Leroy). Still nada. Niet. See y’a tomorrow, Diner of Hell. 
> 
> July 21th - 1973
> 
> _8h02_ : why is this so hot in this shite country. and like, not ‘fine hot summer day with a breeze and chiming birds’. it’s just humid, heavy, hot, the smell of the docks nearby are revolting, and i’m sweating so much. I. HATE. THIS. 
> 
> _8h36_ : Doodle Girl arrived, quite earlier that usual. This time, she’s wearing a baseball cap. Suits her too. She nodded at me, and i raised my coffee at her. Look at me being all sociable and shit.
> 
> _14h11_ : can you watch an abandoned warehouse, while drinking, eating, and writing, and still be sleeping? asking for a friend. 
> 
> _15h46_ : Doodle Girl came by the table to bring me another drawing of me, a lot more crafted and complete this time. I’m pretty sure i blushed - god this is so embarrassing. I think she said something along the line of ‘I hope you like it a _latte_ , Detective.’ but i was too busy choking on my coffee in silence to give a coherent answer. she looked so proud of her pun, i didn’t even have the heart to groan, and just laughed. 
> 
> _15h48_ : wait a minute, DETECTIVE????
> 
> #####  _[note: the notes after that appear to have been stained by coffee, making anything else illisible. it also looks like this page was damaged, a half of it is torn apart. According to the context of the last entry, it can be imagined that Dr. Watson left in a hurry without much thought for the integrity of her journal]_

"""

While not explicitly stated, nor completely described as Ninomae, I do believe the one referred to as ‘Doodle Girl’ to be the High Priestess. Indeed, the context of the investigation being tied to CotAO, the girl always depicted as wearing a piece of clothing hiding the top of her head, her proclivity for art and the mention of a mysterious book leads me to propose that, not only was this person in fact Ninomae, but also that this is the first encounter between her and Watson. Unfortunately, the rest of the notes of this casefile are missing, and nothing about the ensuing events of this investigation is known. 

For more on Watson’s perspective of CotAO and Ninomae, I will invite you to read my previous paper on the topic, that constituted the work of my master’s degree21 and subsequently orientated me towards Dr. Watson as the subject of my thesis. However, the following paragraphs will relate to what I did not include in this review at the time – namely, Ninomae’s perspective of Amelia Watson. 

Of the little information existing on Ninomae, something that struck me as important, yet not discussed enough in my opinion, is her artistic proclivity. Ninomae indeed holds no less than a hundred declared art pieces, and is suspected to have painted countless more that has never been found, or simply never identified as hers. Ninomae’s art has been the subject of two major expositions in the Louvre Museum in 2041, France and the Rijksmusuem in 2055, Amsterdam, gathering between the two almost 65 oil paintings, charcoal drawing and a select few sculptures. As a long time aficionado of the study of the art of the occult, I have had the privilege to have been invited to the private viewing of the second exposition. 

Ninomae’s visionary work of the deep oceans and creatures, or the more abstract work like her famous series titles ‘Madness in low light’ have been the topic of much debate in the artistic world. Similarly, Ninomae did claim several paintings depicting her fellow mythical beings in such pieces as ‘Fire meets Death’, ‘The Lost City’, ‘Rebirth’, ‘or ‘Myth-chievious’. Only one painting, officially attributed to Ninomae, represents Dr. Watson: the work, titled ‘Family’, depicts Ninomae, Gawr, Takanashi, Mori and Watson on a mountaintop, in hiking gear, as the sun is setting. All adorn a bright smile, and appear to be hugging one another. It could easily be mistaken for a photograph if you don’t get close enough to see the actual strokes of brushes22.

However, what piqued my interest the most were the few doodles and unfinished pieces that have been recovered in an abandoned isle near the coast of England, thought to belong to Ninomae. Most of the work found there was either unfinished, or untitled, and attributing any kind of meaning to it revealed to be difficult for the critics. I believe, however, that some of those pieces could potentially refer, directly or indirectly, to Dr. Watson. 

The first one depicts a faceless woman, sitting in a chair. Very little can be discerned about the woman’s treat, as the focus of the drawing (charcoal on paper) is clearly the animal sitting on the woman’s lap. The dog appears to be a terrier, rather chubby, sleeping carelessly on the woman’s lap. You can even see a little bit of drool at the corner of its lips. The most striking detail, however, is the cartoonish mustache sitting on top of the dog’s muzzle. The piece is not dated, and only holds an obscure annotation in the back; ‘Bubb-asleep’. One can only guess that the dog’s name is Bubb?

As far as common knowledge, Ninomae did not own pets, nor can any be found in any of the depictions of her throughout history. Watson, however, was a known animal lover. While it was never confirmed, she was rumoured to having owned several pets - however their exact number or nature is unknown. This dog could therefore be a possible pet of Watson’s - and the woman, Watson’s herself. 

The second painting that drew my attention is simply titled ‘Sunshine’. While not finished, it is still breathtaking. The painting depicts a woman, whose features are indiscernible on the account of the halo of sunshine illuminating her from behind. This very bright painting, mixing all shades of white and yellow, is a stark contrast with Ninomae’s usual work, and her signature style of contrasted shading of light and dark. In many of her paintings, the broad stroke of somber colors clash with the sporadic spot of lightning, giving her body of work a dim ambiance representing both hope and anger, or as some have postulated, madness. This piece of work, however, only warms your heart as you look at it. You want to discern the woman’s face, you want to reach out, but she remains enveloped by the sun, unattainable. Maybe, there’s even a hint of melancholy… And somehow, when looking at it, my first thought went to Dr. Watson. Of course, this may be a complete stretch on my part, and the work could merely be an unfinished study of light. 

The last drawing that, I believe, could refer to Watson is a collection of several rough sketches, untitled, and most likely a study of anatomy. You can indeed see a number of body parts in different angles and lightning, with very little specific features. However, some pieces of clothing, namely the cuff of a certain shirt, the high collars, and the back of a hat are familiar and could very well resemble the classic outfit attributed to Watson. Nonetheless, the lack of proper details prevents me from asserting this with confidence. 

But something else led me to make this postulat: in some of the drawings of left hands, a very simple ring, void of any ornaments can be distinguished. This reminded me of a photograph of Dr. Watson (see Annex 7) that I uncovered during research at the Cairo Museum of Archeology. In one old box of unpublished works and findings that were as later revealed to be Watson’s, a single polaroid stood out: it shows Watson in front of a pyramid, sunburned, coatless, holding her signature mustache magnifying glass. She’s laughing, and shielding her eyes from the sun with her left hand. The picture appears to be a candid, non professional work, and definitely not an official picture that accompanied the news article of her findings. A shadow on the photograph suggests the presence of the person who took the photograph, who remains unidentified. The photograph is a bit blurry, which makes it hard to discern specific details, however, if you look closely at Watson’s left hand, there’s a reflection of sunshine on her ring finger. 

Now, it is to be noted that Dr. Watson was, as far as the record shows, never married. Therefore, this could very well be a trick of the light. However, when you put the drawing, and the photograph next to each other, I couldn’t shake the notion that the two might be related..

[...]

* * * * 

19Excerpt of ‘The Journal of Amelia Watson’, currently available at the London Museum of History

20‘Deficit in cognitives function in rats, monkeys and humans tied to physical transchronological displacement’, T. Jaffe et al., 2112, Journal of Cognitive Behaviour

21The Cult of the Ancient One: what we know and what we don’t’, A. Holmes, 2139.

22'Family’, oil on canvas, I. Ninomae (date unknown)

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a short introduction, the first chapter (focused on kiara) will be coming very soon. the rest of the fic is still being edited and worshopped, but it shouldn't take ages (says the unreliable writer, sweating.)


End file.
